Cowboys in Charge Read online

  As he moved closer, she saw the heat in his eyes. Warmth spread through her as well. She wanted to rub at her nervous stomach, yet she held still, waiting.

  He stood looking down at her, breathing shallowly. “This is a sight I don’t think I’ll ever forget. Don’t want to forget.”

  “There’s more.” Nerves fluttered in her abdomen. Keep going. You can do this. She nodded toward a box at her side. “Open it.”

  He seemed to have trouble looking away from her, but finally reached for the box. Impatiently, he tore the wrapping off and removed the lid. His eyes widened. “Really? You’re okay with this?”

  She hadn’t been completely sure until the way he looked at her with such pride, such delight…such love. “I bought them because I trust you.” She met his gaze. “Because I love you with all my heart.”

  She sat perfectly still as he pulled out the black leather collar, the word submissive imprinted on the front. He leaned down as she lifted her hair so that he could put it on. After snapping it in place, he gently cupped her face. “Thank you.”

  The emotion in his eyes, the tenderness in his voice, made her smile.

  He reached again into the box he’d set down. He held up the nipple clamps with dangly strings of small silver stars. But he didn’t move toward her with them. Instead he said, “We’ll try these another time. I want to ease you into this stuff. Today the collar is enough.” He choked up, cleared his throat. “Thank you.”

  Jason couldn’t believe what she’d done for him. He’d seen her sitting there in a somewhat submissive slave manner and been surprised. She was making an effort to tell him that she was willing to move their lifestyle to the next level. She hadn’t exactly said that, but he understood. This was a huge step for her. Until now he’d bought everything they used in their games. Each time he’d worried that maybe he’d gone too far, but she’d never really complained. But this! A submissive’s collar…nipple clamps. The collar represented something of big importance to her. He knew she saw it as losing who she was. He saw it as her trusting him enough to let him be in charge. He would never let her lose the very special woman she was. He would guard and protect her, own her…but with the strength of his love for her.

  He looked down at the most precious gift from her, herself wrapped in a big red bow. When he’d seen her, his heart had nearly pounded right out of his chest. Never, ever would he forget this Christmas. He wanted to see her completely naked. Yet he was reluctant to remove the bow.

  He thought about what he’d bought her and felt depressed. She’d probably like the necklace, but it was nothing compared to what she’d given him. He shifted around her and reached for the small box. “I’ll get you something better. I promise.”

  She took the box with a gentle smile. “It’s not the gift that matters. It’s the thought behind it.” She pulled off the wrapping. “I know how much you hate anything to do with shopping. But you love me enough to do it.”

  He waited nervously for her to look inside the box. He’d actually spent over an hour in the jewelry store making a decision. Every female salesclerk in there had taken pity on him, given him their advice. But he’d spotted this necklace on first entering the store and kept going back to it. This was the only one that came anywhere close to how he felt about Jen.

  Her hands shook as she lifted the delicate silver strand from the box. He watched her carefully finger the intertwined silver hearts dotted with tiny diamonds. When she looked up at him, tears rolled down her cheeks. Her smile told him everything: she loved it.

  “It’s beautiful. Perfect.” She climbed gracefully to her feet and moved into his embrace. The ribbon crinkling as she snuggled to him. “I love you so much.”

  He held her close, never wanting to let her go. She was the best gift he could ever get.

  Naughty, Naughty Cowgirl

  She was never going through another week like this one, not even another day. Her ass hurt from the second sound spanking in four days. Her heart hurt even more. How could she love Justin so much and dislike him at the same time?

  Nicole walked gingerly from the kitchen toward the bedroom. She’d no sooner put the last of the Thanksgiving dinner dishes in the dishwasher after the last of their guests had finally left than Justin had turned on her. Okay, she’d been a little testy today. She was tired. Cooking for two days and getting the house sparkling clean for her in-laws, who didn’t seem to like her that much, put her in a mood. Then they’d all but ignored her in the spirited table conversations about the ranch, a family reunion his mother wanted to have next summer, about… Well, about anything other than what she wanted or could talk about.

  “No TV either,” Justin called after her. “Straight to bed.”

  Straight to bed. You’ve been such a naughty girl today. I’m ashamed of your behavior. Yada, yada, yada. She was tired of being treated like a child. They’d been married over five years now. He needed to accept her for who she was.

  She reached back to rub her stinging bottom. First thing tomorrow she was going to break every wooden spoon in the kitchen. Toss them in the trash. Maybe she had agreed to domestic discipline when they’d gotten married, but she hadn’t really thought he would hold to the idea. At least not this long. From what he’d said when she’d grudgingly put the spoon in his hand and complained about getting another spanking, she would never be too old to go over his knee. Ha! She was already too old for this nonsense. It was time she made that clear to him.

  “Did you hear me?”

  Well, maybe she’d make a stand tomorrow about her decision. No sense risking another round with his hand blasting her sore bottom. “Yes. Straight to bed.” She gave him the answer he wanted, but it didn’t mean she had to like it.

  She walked into the large master bedroom and stood in the doorway for a second. Justin had designed the log home and helped build it during their year-long engagement. She’d told him about things that she wanted in the house: a fireplace for the great room with a carved mantle like she’d seen in Branson, large windows to overlook the ranch yard, a kitchen with restaurant-style appliances because she loved to cook, a room for her painting studio, a hot tub on the deck for the two of them, a walk-in closet in the bedroom, and a big bay window with a seat there as well so she could sit and read sometimes. He’d given her all of it and so much more. He was a good man, a good husband…an amazing lover.

  She heard him moving around in the kitchen, opening the refrigerator door, probably grabbing a beer. He liked drinking a beer when he watched football and he planned to watch the game tonight. If his parents and two brothers and their wives hadn’t left, they might have stayed to watch the game with him. She’d not encouraged them to stay. Her behavior was complicated, but she’d reached her limit for tolerating them today.

  Just once she would have liked to see her husband realize how awkward things were between her and his family. The man was sharp as a tack most of the time, except with anything to do with relationship things, touchy-feely stuff, then he was lost. Totally clueless.

  With a sigh of frustration, she closed the door behind her and tossed her jeans and panties on the bench running along the end of the bed. At least he’d made her take them off and hadn’t insisted she put them back on after he’d roasted her butt. Walking alone had been tough enough, with fabric rubbing her tender skin it would have been much worse.

  She pulled off her T-shirt and bra to add to the small pile of clothes. As she turned, she glanced at the mirror over the dresser. No wonder her bottom felt like she’d been stung by a swarm of bees! There was hardly a square inch that wasn’t bright red. He’d sure done the job this time. But then it hadn’t helped her any when she’d reached back, somehow managed to grab hold of the spoon, and then whacked one of his shins with it before he snagged it back from her. Bad move on her part.

  What was she going to do about this situation? She wanted to be married to Justin. Most of the time he was her true “other half.” They could finish each other’s sentence
s, knew what the other wanted at times. But there were also times when he stepped into his head of the household role and took it too seriously. He thought he knew what she needed, meaning some manner of spanking, to fix a misbehavior problem. Sort of his “easy way out” of dealing with a problem. She would have preferred talking it out…maybe heatedly discussing whatever it was. Like this time…the issues she had with his family. Maybe it would have led to more problems between them, maybe not. Done deal now, though. What she knew was that this would be the last spanking he’d give her!

  Justin settled into the leather recliner and flicked on the TV. He took a swig of beer and set the bottle on the end table next to his chair. There was nothing better than watching football on Thanksgiving night. Except watching it with his dad and brothers.

  He located the game with the remote and scowled. He’d be watching the game by himself this year and it pissed him off. Nicci had been a royal brat today. She’d acted strange from the moment his mother and sisters-in-law had come out of the kitchen after offering to help her. His mother had said his wife had everything under control, but he’d heard the underlying hurt in her tone. His sisters-in-law weren’t usually big on helping out anyway and appeared to be relieved. When he’d gone into the kitchen to ask her about the situation, she had given him a wounded look, and then the usual, “Everything’s fine” line.

  His attention shifted to the TV but quickly back to his thoughts. What was going on with her lately? She’d started getting cranky earlier this week, grumbling around about all the cooking she needed to do for today. He’d even had to burn her ass a couple of days ago because she was having a meltdown. She’d been okay since then, until today. She’d avoided being around his family as much as possible; including insisting that she could finish the meal preparation by herself. She had hidden in the kitchen as long as she could, and then she hadn’t said more than two words at the dinner table.

  He frowned, puzzled by her behavior. It wasn’t like her to be so rude. Her sour attitude had continued when they had started talking about a family reunion. She had clammed up even more, appearing to withdraw further into herself. Except he remembered her muttering something about being too busy even though they hadn’t actually set a date. What was that about? Too busy? Finally the conversation had faded off, everyone tense. His family had decided it was best if they left right after the meal. Which was why he was here about to watch football alone, dammit.

  He took another swig of beer, listening to the dishwasher in the other room. Not ten minutes ago he’d grabbed a thick wooden spoon from the ceramic utensil holder on the counter and his wife by her arm. He’d dragged her with him to the small table in the nook, sat down, and bent her over his knee. He’d wasted no time in giving her a couple dozen quick licks. She’d caught hold of the spoon and hit his shin with it, cussing at him. He’d regained control of the spoon and firmly showed her what an error she’d made. She wouldn’t be trying that kind of nonsense again.

  The commercial drew his attention for a second, but his focus quickly returned to his wife. Something was wrong between them. Something that had been growing for a while now. He didn’t know what he’d done, but he sensed it was bad. He’d avoided actually asking her what was bothering her, hoping whatever it was would just fade away. Stupid, yes.

  Maybe he should go to their room and try to make his way through that minefield of talking about emotions, feelings. Scary stuff, that. He was a guy; he didn’t talk about feelings. One small misstep and he could make the problem worse. If it could get worse.

  No. He’d stay here and watch the game. He’d sent her to bed early as part of the punishment, also to let her calm down. Hopefully, she would get beyond whatever had made her a crazy woman today. Later he’d go up and snuggle with her, maybe entice her into having sex with him. They hadn’t made passionate love in a while now. Quick little comings together for satisfying their base needs, yes. But actually spending time and enjoying each other, no. He missed that. Maybe he was at fault. He just didn’t know.

  * * * *

  Nicci watched Justin stomp into his boots and her heart felt heavy. He’d come to bed late last night, ready to make up with her. She’d tried to evade his attempts to pull her against him at first. But he could be very persuasive when he set his mind to loving her. And, boy, could her cowboy make love! She hadn’t resisted that hard.

  Well sated from last night and another round of heart-pumping, yes-yes-yes sex not long ago, she didn’t have the energy to move yet. Besides, she wanted to savor every very fine inch of her handsome husband. She didn’t want to forget anything about him. Not the dark hair that brushed his collar because he needed a haircut. Not the thick eyebrows that pulled together when he was upset or worried. Or the long nose with the slight bend from a scuffle with one of his brothers when they’d been teenagers. Certainly she wouldn’t forget the sexy way he had of smiling crookedly at her when they made love. The list of what she loved about his physical appearance could go on and on. And there was a lot about him beyond looks that she loved. Yet she’d made a tough decision before he’d come up to bed last night and she was sticking to it.

  “Are you going to work on those paintings for your show next month?” he asked, glancing back at her from the doorway.

  He was late heading out for his share of the chores, late because he’d taken the time to do some extra fun and games with her. He’d seemed almost desperate to take her to the heights of pleasure this morning. She’d let him, knowing it might not happen again. Sadness weighed her down.

  She scooted back against the headboard, pulling the sheet up to her bare breasts. She tried not to see the catch in his breath as he reacted to the glimpse of her naked body. How easily the man could get turned on sometimes. Courage. Don’t drag this out. Tell him.

  “No, I won’t be painting today.” She sucked in a steely breath. “I’ll be packing.”

  Those eyebrows pulled together and his deep blue eyes narrowed. “Packing?”

  She swallowed hard, twice. Could she really do this? Then before she could change her mind, she gushed out, “I’m moving into town.”

  He blinked in surprise and his shoulders stiffened beneath the blue plaid work shirt. “You’re leaving me?” he asked grimly. His hands fisted at his sides, but he strangely remained calm otherwise.

  “That’s all you have to say? I announce that I’m moving out and that’s it?” Pain pinched her heart. She could barely breathe. “No ‘are you crazy?’ or ‘no way!’”

  He appeared to struggle with what to say, opening his mouth and then shutting it. His expression tightened. Finally he said, “I don’t want you to go.” His gaze met hers and she saw the pain in his eyes. “But I want you to be happy.”

  She almost changed her mind. Instead she fought to keep from crying and to keep from getting up to fling herself into his arms. She ached for him to just hold her. “Things haven’t been right between us for some time now.”

  “I know,” he admitted, sounding worried. “But I don’t know what the hell to do about it. Because I don’t know what I did wrong.” He looked so frustrated, so lost.

  Then he frowned. “Is it because I burned your ass yesterday? Because you think you’re too old for disciplining?”

  “That’s part of it.” She didn’t like the discipline side of their marriage. He seemed to think that spanking solved problems instead of taking the time to talk about them. Verbal communication wasn’t his best thing, at least not with her.

  But there was more that bothered her than his failure to communicate with her or his quick decision to spank her instead of talking with her. He’d started hanging out more and more with some of his single ranching friends, going to play pool with them on Friday nights, or playing poker on Saturday nights. She’d been busy getting ready for her second art showing next month for the Christmas season. Yet she would have liked to go to a movie or out dancing with him like they used to do…if he’d asked. He hadn’t. And she hadn’t suggested i
t. Maybe she hadn’t cared enough.

  He swiped a hand through his hair as he often did when frustrated. “You knew my beliefs on the matter before we got married.” He blew out a deep breath, his whole chest moving with it. “I suppose I can try to change. Stop spanking you.”

  Would that be enough? And was it fair of him to change part of who he was if she wasn’t willing to change something as well? But she didn’t know what about her to change. Not that she was perfect.

  “I’m not saying I want a divorce, Justin. I just think we need some time apart. See what each of us really wants.” Tears slipped down her face, her lower lip wobbled. Everything inside her felt tight and painful. She could still stop this, change her mind.

  If she did stay, nothing would change. They’d continue along this growing farther apart path they’d started on. It wasn’t good for either of them. For him to suddenly give up the spanking-man side of him wasn’t enough. And her caving in on the matter wouldn’t help their situation, either.

  He straightened, his broad shoulders rigid. “Were you thinking about leaving me all the time we made love?”

  She couldn’t deny that it had been in her thoughts since last night. Her lips trembled. “Not all the time,” she whispered. “I do love you.” She did.

  Hurt flashed in his eyes, echoed in his tone. “I can’t help you move out. I just can’t. But one of the men can help you when you’re ready to go.” He turned away, stopping with his back to her. “At least let me know before you leave.”

  How could she do this? How could she make love with him and then turn around and want to walk away? Justin walked in a dazed fog through the house. He felt shattered. He’d known something was wrong between them. But for her to leave him? It was worse than he’d imagined. How could he let her go? How could he not?